


Coda

by MechBull



Series: Reprise AU [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 08:02:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3127103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MechBull/pseuds/MechBull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the Italian word for “tail,” a passage that brings a musical piece to a conclusion.</p><p>(AKA a continuation of Reprise. The first part includes “deleted scenes” filling in some of Fitz’ POV and the next two parts are sort of a sequel featuring scenes set after the original epilogue.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Something like eight hours had passed. Maybe ten, Fitz wasn’t sure. His math was getting a little fuzzy. 

Long enough, at any rate, for him to finally accept that Ward wasn’t being controlled, wasn’t brainwashed, wasn’t confused. He was certainly in possession of all his faculties when he pulled the handle that sent this damn pod – and Fitz, of course – into the ocean. 

Long enough for him to find a sling for his broken arm and rig up a beacon of sorts that let out a tiny little signal that he finally remembered no one would be looking for anyway.

Long enough for him to modify the air bag in the medical supplies to give him a few more puffs of oxygen when the level of carbon dioxide in the pod got even higher than it already was. Although really, what was the point? A few more puffs weren’t going to really matter. He was going to die down there. He had accepted that too.

His only regret – well, no. That was stupid. He had many, many regrets. But his biggest one was not calling Jemma when he had the chance. Things had fallen apart with the reveal that Hydra was still active, from within S.H.I.E.L.D. no less. And it had been a crazy, busy, terrifying, heartbreaking few days. But he could have found the time to call her. Tell her he loved her, that she needed to be safe even if that meant cutting off all ties with him, that he’d never ever ever _want_ to do what Garrett asked of him but that he also wouldn’t hesitate to do anything to protect her. He could have heard her voice one last time.

“ _Oh, Fitz._ ”

Fitz blinked a couple times, turning his head towards the window of the pod. Some part of him knew this had to be it, the end. Because she wasn’t really there, sitting on the floor, arms wrapped around her knees, smiling at him before looking out into the water again. He wasn’t really hearing her murmur something simultaneously comforting and kind of creepy and, since it was her, scientific. But he was so tired and maybe it didn’t hurt to pretend she was there with him. He wouldn’t be able to be there for her, would never kiss her again or listen to her laugh or argue tech specifications and lab protocols, wouldn’t be able to hold her while she cried for him…well, no. Of course not. That made no sense. If he was there holding her, she wouldn’t be crying for him and…now, Fitz was just getting confused. 

He inhaled deeply but it didn’t seem to help. He swallowed, but his mouth felt dry, his tongue too thick. 

“’m sorry, Jem,” he whispered to her, keeping his eyes open just long enough for her to look at him again. 

“Fitz,” she said, her voice sounding weirdly like it was coming from inside his head. But he couldn’t find the strength to open his eyes again. “The window. The seal. Ethanol.”

Something clattered next to him as he flailed about. Of course. Yes, of course. He’d just need…he’d need…

Fitz forced his eyes open. He had no choice. He’d have to use the air bag now, even if that meant nothing would be available later. It was his only chance. He reached out for it, held it to his mouth, and nearly started coughing as soon as his lungs filled. And then he reached for the defibrillator. 

Somehow he managed to set up an explosive and keep conscious as the force of the water rushing in nearly knocked him back. Somehow he managed to kick and pull his way out of the pod and start the mad climb for the surface, his broken arm hanging uselessly down. It was a long distance, and he wasn’t a great swimmer even in the best of conditions, but if he just kept moving, he might just…

The water got bluer, clearer. He was pretty sure that was the sky just a few feet away, pretty sure he could see the sun glinting down into the ocean. But there were black spots too, flitting in and out of his line of vision, almost circular in pattern, like something rotating just above the surface. And then the black spots filled in more and more, as his lungs screamed for relief, until the darkness overwhelmed him and there was nothing.

**

For a while, he just slipped in and out of consciousness. He knew Coulson was there much of the time, and his mother too. Skye and May, of course, and some people he didn’t recognize – doctors, maybe, or other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Someone who looked an awful lot like Koenig, and Fitz worried that his mind was playing tricks on him, because he could have sworn that Ward…that Ward had killed him.

Once he managed to stay awake for more than a second or two at a time, he began trying to convey messages to his visitors with just some really insistent eye contact. He was still having trouble speaking and didn’t even want to try writing anything down, but they had to know. They had to know what he was asking for, or rather _who_ he was asking for.

He needed to see her. He needed to know she was all right. 

But no one would say anything. No one would hold his gaze, letting their own eyes drop in something resembling shame or pity or, in Skye’s case and as confusing as it was, anger. 

Eventually, he found his words again, and the first one, to no one’s surprise, least of all his own, was “Jemma?”

But the answer to that question, and every subsequent time he asked it, even as he progressed through his physical therapy, even after his mom went home and the doctors cleared him for more and more, remained the same. _Not yet. We’ll explain soon. She’s perfectly fine, don’t worry about that. Just concentrate on getting better, Fitz._

It was May who told him the truth in the end. How they had thought, how they had assumed… That Coulson felt it was best and had spoken to her himself. That she thought he was dead. That she had been mourning him for weeks, months, but at least she was safe from Hydra now. 

Fitz had lost it then, spiraling into a full-on tantrum. He screamed nonsense, knocked things over, threw things across the room. He yelled at May, stepped toward her in a way he would never have dared before, knowing he was no threat to her but also knowing she wouldn’t punish him for it later. She remained stoic, letting him wear himself out until he was practically catatonic. He slid down against the corner of the wall until he was seated on the ground, and she finally left the room. An unknown length of time passed before someone else entered the room. Fitz didn’t look, didn’t care. The person sat next to him, reached out for his hand and took it into her own. Skye. Neither of them said anything as she leaned her head to the side and rested it on his shoulder. After a moment, he tilted his own head until he could feel her hair brushing against his cheek.

**

Fitz glanced around his bunk, feeling much like he did as a child when he stayed up past his bedtime reading. That is, feeling almost certain that someone was going to burst in and discipline him for breaking the rules. But sometimes rules were meant to be broken, either because the chapter of his new textbook was just too interesting to put down or because hearing her voice again was the only thing he could think about.

He stared at the phone resting on the bed in front of him for a long moment. And then he leaned forward, reaching his good hand (by some definition of good) out for it. It took him several swipes to unlock the screen, and even longer to access the contacts list. By the time he scrolled to her name, his hand was shaking so badly, he could barely touch the screen. Fitz clenched his hand into a fist and sighed. He closed his eyes and sat there, breathing in and out slowly. And then he opened his eyes again, tapped a few buttons until the screen locked. 

He could tune out Coulson’s and Koenig’s repeated admonitions at Hunter every time he did something that might put the Playground on Hydra’s or Talbot’s radar. He could find a way to forget the memory of May saying Jemma was safe from Hydra now. He could come up with a million arguments to present when he finally found the courage to ask Skye to work her computer magic and find out how Jemma was doing. 

But he couldn’t quite drown out the voice that pointed out everything that was different about him now, everything that was slow or shaky or didn’t work the way it used to. Everything that she loved about him and he’d never be able to offer her again.

**

Oddly enough, it was when he finally accepted that he was never going to see her again that he started to. At first, she’d just pop into the corner of his eye but disappear when he turned. And then she started smiling at him. And then she started talking to him.

Nothing like he would have expected her to say – nothing sweet, or romantic, or even flirtatious. Never that she loved him or wanted him or needed him. Mostly just forcing him on. Pointing out how he could try something differently when he failed the first time, or giving him words when he couldn’t find them, or reminding him he had to keep at it to get better, or encouraging him to get involved with the team again and welcome Mack’s overtures at friendship. Hinting that he should move on from her and forget her. 

Essentially, asking him to recover enough so that even this version of her was gone too. Because he wasn’t damaged that much. He knew she was no realer now than she was in the pod down there. And he knew he never really would start to get better if he continued to hold onto her like this, using the imaginary version of her as some kind of crutch. 

But he missed her.

**

He kind of wished people would stop telling him how much better he was. It felt condescending. It felt like they were still measuring him up against how he was and finding him lacking. It felt like they’d never truly accept him now and that he was useless to the team as he was and they were just waiting, hoping, wondering how long they’d have to carry him before they finally gave up. Because Fitz knew he’d never make it back to that level. And he didn’t need the constant reminders of that, wrapped up in overly cheerful praise.

Mack was the only one who didn’t treat him like that, and so he was the only one who Fitz felt comfortable enough around to be himself. And perhaps understandably, it was in those moments that he felt most like he actually _had_ turned a corner, was getting better, could be different but still somehow valuable. It was after he had successfully completed a project with Mack that the Jemma in his head had given him one last proud but sad smile and then went away. He hadn’t seen her since. 

He had seen Ward since, though. One too many cryptic references had annoyed him enough into sneaking down into the basement. Coulson had scolded him, but Fitz wasn’t really going to kill Ward, of course. He had just needed Ward to know what it felt like. To get back at him in some way. That encounter had set Fitz’ recovery back slightly, but now he was moving on again. Ward really wasn’t worth his concern. Fitz didn’t want to let him take anything more from him. 

But then Ward was worth his concern again and could very well take more. Because he was gone, escaped during a transfer, and Fitz couldn’t help but feel, couldn’t help but worry that… The look Ward had given him as he was escorted through the halls was part sadly stoic, part regretful, but also part cold, part calculating. Fitz didn’t know what he was planning, and he feared the worst. He knew he wasn’t the expert he used to be, but he also knew that he was still skilled enough to be tempting to Hydra. They might still want him, might still do anything to get him. Or Ward might just want to hurt him again, finish the job he didn’t complete before or at least get payback for Fitz’ antics with the cell’s atmosphere controls. 

Oh God, Jemma. 

Fitz was pretty sure he had been pacing since they had learned of Ward’s escape. He knew he had been mumbling to himself. From the looks on people’s faces, he was scaring the lab minions away again. But Fitz didn’t really care. He only cared about one thing – Jemma. And there was nothing he could do for her, no way he could protect her. If he had any sort of his old abilities, he’d already be gone, heading for her by himself if needed. But he was useless, completely useless. 

He could tell by the activity in the base that they were going after Ward. Skye, Bobbi, May, Hunter, Trip, even Coulson. They were all suited up, plane engines running as they prepared to go off in different directions to check Ward’s caches of supplies. And he’d be left behind here again, like he always was now. Where would they start looking? Did they even know what Fitz had seen in Ward’s expression? Did they know Jemma was in danger? 

Did they care?

Fitz shook his head. He’d make them care. He slapped one hand down on the lab bench and walked out the door, heading towards the hangar. He wasn’t entirely sure what his plan was or how he would convince them to take him to her. He just knew it was going to happen, one way or another. 

“Hey, Turbo!” Mack’s voice was calm and understanding, like always, and he held up his hands, in placation or perhaps just to indicate Fitz should stop. 

Fitz didn’t stop. He ducked quickly to the side, nearly slipping past Mack before his big hand grabbed Fitz’s upper arm. 

“Calm down, man. They’re going, don’t worry.”

Fitz shook his head, still trying to walk, still not bothering to make eye contact. “You don’t understand. Ward – she – I...”

“The famous Dr. Simmons, I know.”

At that, Fitz finally stopped. He turned to Mack, looked at him slightly slack-jawed, and found it difficult to breathe.

“Jemma?”

“That’s what I’m saying. I was just in there. Coulson, May and Skye are going to get her.”

“They – they are?”

“Yeah, man. They’re not stupid. Even if he’s not going for her now, he will soon enough. And in the meantime, they don’t want to see you go off the deep end with worry. The others will start the manhunt, while those three go straight to her.”

For a brief moment, Fitz almost collapsed with relief. And then he was focused again, preparing to continue in the same direction. 

“I should – I need to…”

“Look,” Mack said, sounding apologetic as he caught Fitz’ attention again. “I know you want to be there, but…they’re on a tight schedule and…well.”

“I’ll slow them down,” Fitz concluded in understanding, feeling a familiar pang of hopeless, humiliated anger. 

He’d have to wait. How could he possibly sit there, not knowing, not helping? 

How would he be able to face her when he did see her again, after all this time?

**

He still didn’t know the answer to that last question, even though he had thought of little else over the past few hours. It was either that or wonder whether the team would be too late, and he couldn’t let himself think of that too much. He’d imagine a million scenarios of their reunion if he needed to, ranging from her screaming to fainting to kissing him to unbridled sex right there on the hangar floor with everyone watching (Fitz didn’t really think that was a possibility, but he preferred it to the ones where she hated him, or worse yet, no longer cared at all). No matter what her response, though, they _were_ going to be reunited. Anything else was simply unacceptable.

Fitz sighed, leaning forward to rest his head on his arms. The lab room was thankfully still quiet, all the others still avoiding him. He couldn’t bring himself to look at his watch again. He knew from experience that, even if it felt like it had been hours since he last checked, the minute hand would not have moved. He tried to calculate flight times and allow for tracking and finding Jemma if she wasn’t at home or work, and thus estimate when exactly he could reasonably expect them. Fitz took a deep breath, exhaling it again slowly and loudly.

There was a tap on the door. Fitz’ head jerked upright and he stared at Mack, trying to control the fear he felt clutching at his heart. 

“They’re on their way back,” Mack said. “Landing any minute now. Ward did make contact, but they made it in time. She’s fine.”

Fitz didn’t bother responding, and this time, Mack moved out of his way as he ran through the hallway towards the hangar. 

“Move,” he shouted, pushing people aside. “For the love of all things holy, get out of the way.”

The plane was landing, thrusters blowing as May kept the plane steady while it lowered. And then they touched down, the ramp was opening and – 

“Let me through! Where is she?” he yelled, again fighting his way closer.

Fitz came to a stop, feeling almost paralyzed as they made eye contact. She was…she was as beautiful as he remembered, more so even. And she was there, safe, uninjured…holding a baby. Fitz swallowed, suddenly as confused as she looked. She turned, giving Coulson the child but never taking her eyes off Fitz. And then she was walking to him.

Fitz couldn’t quite believe it. He had hoped and wished for so long, and now he didn’t dare move in case he woke up. 

“Jemma,” he whispered. “Is it really you?”

She reached out to him, her mouth slightly open, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. Fitz’ heart pounded in his chest and he couldn’t look away. 

And then, suddenly, he was looking at the ground, his head forced to the side by the impact of her palm against his cheek.


	2. Chapter 2

Fitz grinned, hardly able to contain his excitement as he waited for the plane ramp to lower. Jemma and Lenore had been gone only a couple days, but it was still too long for his preferences. Especially since one of the errands Jemma had planned to run was to see her old doctor and confirm what she already suspected. Fitz desperately wanted to know what the outcome of that appointment had been, and he was still a little annoyed she told him that the lab couldn’t spare both of them. “I don’t need you there to help me pee in a cup” had been her exact words. 

But he had let it go, realizing that she was right. This particular appointment wouldn’t be the most exciting of the milestones they’d go through over the next several months, so he’d save his time off from the base for future trips. She knew how much he wanted to be involved, how much he wanted to make up for all he had missed before. She would have let him come if it had been that big of a deal. But the _least_ she could have done is text him with an update. 

Finally, finally, the ramp was fully lowered. And there they were, Jemma looking more tired than Fitz would have liked and Lenore practically squeezing the stuffing out of the old, worn monkey she had carried around for years. Jemma constantly threatened to “lose the disgusting thing” but Fitz wouldn’t allow it. If he couldn’t have his monkey, then his daughter would at least get to keep hers, no matter how many germs were probably permanent residents on it. 

Jemma bent down, saying something in Lenore’s ear as she pointed over at Fitz. Then, as fast as her little legs could carry her, Lenore was running down the ramp and into Fitz’ arms.

“Daddy!”

“Oh, darling,” Fitz replied, lifting her as he stood. “I missed you so much.”

“Me too, Daddy.”

“Did you have fun with Aunt Marci and the boys?”

Lenore nodded, and then immediately launched into a story about some game they played that had apparently involved lots of running in the backyard. Between the noise in the hangar drowning out her tiny voice and the fact that she still had trouble enunciating very clearly, Fitz only caught every few words. He nodded anyway, making appropriate sounding noises of interest. 

Then Jemma was there, and Fitz reached out his free hand to take the suitcase from her. He leaned forward to kiss the corner of her lips, wanting more as always but respecting her desire to avoid too much PDA in the Playground. And so, he was more than a little surprised when she turned her head quickly, allowing a full kiss, even opening her mouth slightly and darting her tongue against his lower lip. Fitz pulled away and raised a curious eyebrow.

“And how was your trip?”

Jemma grinned, her eyes twinkling. Fitz bent his head down, even as he raised his eyebrows farther, silently confirming what she was trying to tell him. Jemma winked, and Fitz bit his lip to prevent himself from whooping in joy. 

“Daddy!” Lenore sounded more than a little put out that she was being ignored. Fitz turned to face his daughter again as he followed Jemma into the base. 

“Sorry, sweetie,” he replied. “Tell me more.”

**

“You know, you’re actually pretty lucky,” Jemma said with a teasing smile.

Fitz glanced over at her, giving the hand he held a quick squeeze. “I know.”

Jemma furrowed her brow briefly, and then sighed and rolled her eyes at the ceiling. “I didn’t – very smooth. Five points for Hufflepuff.”

Fitz fought a smile. “What did you mean?”

They were almost to the lab by that point and the halls were starting to fill, even at the early hour. They angled closer to each other, Jemma dropping her voice lower so as not to be overheard. 

“It’s just I haven’t had too many problems with morning sickness this time around,” she muttered. “Last time, my stomach was so queasy. Everything set me off.”

Fitz nodded. “I have to say, I’m not too upset to be missing out on that.”

Jemma shook her head, giving his chest a little pat with the back of her hand as she led him into the lab. She paused suddenly, just inside the door. 

“Oh.” Her voice was strained, somewhat surprised. She made a face, scrunched her nose. “What’s that _smell_?”

Fitz sniffed cautiously, afraid there was a dead animal or something. He hadn’t yet forgiven Jemma for a cat that had made an appearance a year or so ago. But nothing seemed too unusual. It simply smelled like the lab.

Before he could reply, however, Jemma shook her head. “Mm-mm,” she grunted softly. “No, I – ” And then she backed out of the room, knocking into him as she turned around and made a dash back towards their room. 

Fitz followed quickly, while still trying to maintain an air of normalcy so no one got too suspicious. By the time he walked into the room, Jemma had already made it to the attached bathroom and landed on her knees in front of the toilet. Fitz reached down, gathering her hair and pulling it back. He smoothed it out, moved it all to one hand so he could softly rub her back with the other. 

She retched, and he closed his eyes, turning his head away and desperately trying to hold his breath. The last thing she needed was some sympathy vomiting. He swallowed.

“You were saying?” he finally managed to choke out.

Jemma swatted a hand behind her blindly, making contact with his calf. “Shut up,” she groaned. “Ten points from Hufflepuff.”

**

“OK, then,” Coulson was wrapping up the detailed plan for the next day’s mission. “Bobbi, Skye, you know what you’re doing?”

Both women nodded, and then Coulson looked at Jemma. “And Simmons, can you take lead on collecting the samples?”

“Oh! Um, yes. I suppose. Sorry, I thought you’d just want – I mean, that’s fine.”

“No,” Fitz shook his head. “No, if you want someone in the field, I’ll go.”

Coulson rolled his eyes, far too used to this objection. “Simmons passed her field assessment two years ago, Fitz. Which you’ve never actually done, I might remind you. And this is really more her area of expertise.”

Fitz looked at Jemma then, and she made a hesitant face back at him. The request was well within the only rule they had agreed on with Coulson even before they were married – that they would never be in the field at the same time. If something happened, at least one of them would still be there for Lenore that way. But truthfully, Fitz never liked Jemma going out in the field at all, and she was the same way about him, and now with their added concern… Jemma sighed and nodded; Fitz turned to Coulson again. Apparently they were going to have to make the announcement. 

“No, it’s just – that is – we’re – Jemma’s – um, you see – ”

“Oh, for crying out loud, Simmons is pregnant,” May interjected. Both Fitz and Simmons whipped their heads to stare at her, though maybe they really shouldn’t have been surprised. “ _Obviously_ ,” May added.

The others all stared at them in shock. Finally, Fitz nodded, and Jemma gave a little smile, awkwardly indicating her stomach with a twist of her hand. And then everyone around the table was talking over each other, as they stood and hurried over to Jemma for congratulatory hugs. 

“And we’re supposed to be trained secret agents!” Coulson pointed out, laughing. Everyone ignored May’s eloquent side-eye in response to that. 

In the end, Fitz went on the mission, with Jemma talking him through what samples to collect over comms.

**

Jemma chuckled low and breathlessly as she repositioned herself slightly. And then she lifted herself again before sliding back down. Her thighs were burning from the effort, but the pace was really working for her so she’d keep it slow anyway. No matter how much Fitz’ fingers dug into the flare of her waist or how many times he tried to buck his hips up. She hugged her arm around his neck tighter even as she leaned back, bracing her other hand just above his knee to provide herself with more leverage.

She locked eyes with him again, smiling softly as he raised one hand to the back of her head. They were close, but too far away to kiss, and the tension made it all the more sensual.

“One good thing about pregnancy,” she murmured.

“No condoms?” he breathed out, and Jemma grinned, leaning forward to rest her forehead on his shoulder. He was so predictable sometimes. 

“That and – ” she broke off to moan. “Hormones. Blood flow.”

“Hmm?”

“We’re past the morning sickness,” Jemma explained, pulling back to look in his eyes again. “Get ready for lots of this.”

Fitz raised his eyebrows, his expression almost as bashful at it was aroused. “Really?”

She smirked and nodded, pushed him back onto the mattress then, leaning forward to rearrange his hands above his head and thread her fingers through his so she could hold him down. She sighed at the angle that put her in and began to grind in small circles, rocking back and forth in sharp, short thrusts to keep him deep inside her even as they moved.

“How – what did you do before?” he asked curiously, his voice strained.

“Went through a lot of batteries,” she replied before leaning down to kiss him messily.

Later, after they had calmed and were simply luxuriating in the afterglow, Fitz looked at her. He smiled, teasing but also just a little, strangely vulnerable. “I’m feeling oddly jealous of that vibrator.”

Jemma closed her eyes briefly, shook her head with a grin. “You love that vibrator.”

Fitz’ smile turned wicked. “I especially love the sounds you make when I use it on you. But I don’t like being replaceable.” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Jemma replied, rolling closer to him and running her hand along his torso. “There are definitely things you can do that it can’t.”

And then she grabbed his arm, pulling him over until he was on top of her. She lifted herself up to kiss him once, quickly, and then moved her hands down to cup his backside. She forced him closer, spreading her legs out so he fit more snugly between them. 

“Again?!” Fitz’ tone was rather incredulous.

“Told you.”

**

Fitz nodded to himself, looking back and forth between his design drawings and the equipment in front of him. The upgrades were almost done, and it would be vastly improved. The door to the lab opened, and Fitz glanced up nervously. When he spotted Jemma, he quickly closed his notebook and tossed a towel over the machine.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” he reminded her.

Jemma sighed. “What is that?”

Fitz shrugged, pressing his lips together as he shook his head dismissively. “Nothing.”

Jemma rolled her eyes, walked closer, and pulled the towel off the monitor. “Fitz! That’s an ultrasound machine.”

“Is it?”

“Fitz!”

He held his hands out to each side. “Just in case, sweetheart.”

“There is no just in case needed, _darling_ ,” she reminded him through gritted teeth. “There is one more ultrasound scheduled with my doctor, just like with most normal, low-risk pregnancies, and then the three of us will go stay with Marci when it gets closer to the due date. At her house minutes away from the hospital, and where there is someone to watch Lenore. We’ve planned all this out.”

“And what if it comes early, hmm? You know the little lass was impatient; this one might be too.”

“I’m sure everything will be fine,” Jemma countered, shaking her head reassuringly. “And besides, we don’t even have anyone here who knows how to operate one of these things. Unless you’ve been taking night classes and forgot to tell me.”

“Jemma,” Fitz shot her a look. “How hard could it be? Besides that’s what…never mind. ”

Jemma’s eyes narrowed. “That’s what _what_?”

“Jennings is for,” Fitz mumbled quietly.

“Jennings who? Wait, _Doctor_ Jennings? From the Academy? Professor of Extraterrestrial Reproductive Anatomy? I’m not giving birth to an _alien_ , Fitz!”

“No! No, of course not. But she specialized in _human_ obstetrics too. And Coulson just thought, for the time being, she could relocate here. You know…just in case.”

“What other steps have been taken ‘just in case?’” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

Unfortunately unthinkingly, Fitz leaned onto the table, pressing down on his notebook with his elbow. “Please calm down, OK? Getting stressed out is not good for the baby.”

Jemma didn’t respond. She just reached out, grabbed hold of the corner of the notebook and ripped it forcefully out from under him. He nearly fell over, catching himself with a rather sharp jolt to his elbow. He rubbed at it as he watched her flip through the notebook.

“Operation Stark? Iron Man’s involved?!”

“Stork,” Fitz all but whispered.

Jemma slammed the notebook shut. “Your handwriting’s crap,” she informed him. “Gather everyone in the conference room.”

She turned and started walking out of the lab.

“Jem – ”

“Now!”

Several minutes later, they were all seated. Jemma paced in front of them, seemingly getting her thoughts together. Fitz knew her expression well, though, and he tried to subtly indicate to the rest of them to tread carefully. 

“It was cute,” she finally said, “when everyone bought me all sorts of food for any craving I could ever possibly have. It was frustrating but understandable when I got kicked out of the lab and off all field missions for the foreseeable future. I understand you care and I appreciate your love and your concern.”

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all, Fitz thought. Then Jemma turned to face them fully. She slammed both hands down on the table as she stared daggers at them. 

“But I had one kid successfully without any of your input. So. Back. Off. Understand?”

“Yes, Jemma,” they all muttered.


	3. Chapter 3

Somewhere far, far away, he thought he heard his name. Too far away to bother responding.

But there it was again, closer, louder. Fitz grunted unintelligibly.

“Fitz!” This time, it was harsh and accompanied by someone shaking his shoulder. Fitz jerked awake.

“What? What is it? Is something wrong? Is it the baby?” The questions jumbled together, out of worry and because his brain hadn’t caught up yet.

Jemma sighed loudly from somewhere above him. “I can’t sleep. I can’t get comfortable.”

“Oh,” Fitz replied, relaxing back onto the mattress. His eyes drooped closed. “Um…”

“ _Fi-i-itz._ ”

Fitz sniffed, then squeezed his eyes shut tighter before blinking them several times. “Whaddya need? Pillow?”

“Rub my back?”

It took a moment to register, and then Fitz nodded. “’Kay.” He sat up, blindly reaching out through the darkness until he found Jemma. He then ran his hand down until he arrived at the small of her back, where he had seen her press her own hand many times as she stretched throughout the day. 

“There?”

“Mmm,” she moaned, and he pressed his fingers in harder, moving them in small circles.

After a few minutes, he could feel the tight muscles start to loosen. He moved, shifting around until he bracketed her with his legs, and then he pulled himself closer, bracing one hand on her shoulder as he switched to his knuckles. He smiled when he heard Jemma groan in response.

“God,” she grunted out. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?”

“Your hands are amazing.”

“Careful,” Fitz teased softly. “Saying things like that and making those kinds of noises got us into this situation in the first place.”

Jemma chuckled, her head dropping forward. “No, pretty sure your birthday got us into this situation in the first place.”

“ _Really?_ ” Fitz drawled.

“Pretty sure.”

“I got two memorable presents then.”

Fitz moved his hand to the side, working on a new knot. Jemma hissed, flinching away before melting back against him. “Are you honestly,” she finally replied, “putting our unborn child in the same category as me wearing nothing but a lab coat and high heels?”

“Jemma,” Fitz said, his tone as serious as he could make it considering the topic of conversation, “you have no idea how much I wanted that.”

Jemma laughed. “I think I still have dents in my skin where your fingers were digging into my hips. Really, this is all your fault, so I don’t feel at all guilty for waking you up.”

“Hey! Don’t put this on me!”

“You could barely control yourself.”

“Oh, really?” Fitz scoffed. “You’re the one that was all ‘Yes, yes, yes! Oh, Fitz. Not yet! Don’t pull out yet!’”

“Was that supposed to be me?” Jemma asked, her voice far too amused. “That’s not even how I sound.”

“’Fill me with your giant manhood!’” Fitz continued, and Jemma snorted. Fitz grinned, bending forward to place an open-mouthed kiss on the back of her shoulder, which was shaking with silent laughter.

“Who have you been having sex with? Because I definitely never said that.” She finally said, still giggling.

“Ouch. You can stop laughing anytime now. Wasn’t that funny,” Fitz shot back, which set her off again. 

After a little more chortling, she calmed down and they didn’t say anything for a while; the only sounds filling the room were Jemma’s moans and occasional sighs. He shook his hands out a bit before returning to the task, this time digging his thumbs in. With a sharp inhale, Jemma reached behind herself, seeking out Fitz’s leg and squeezing the muscle of his thigh.

“How’s your back?” he murmured. 

“Better,” she breathed out, before moaning again. 

“If your backache’s gone, I can rub something else,” Fitz offered, scooting just a little closer so Jemma could feel him against her. In case she couldn’t figure out what he was implying. “I’m feeling very generous.”

She shook her head, but it was more exasperated than anything, and Fitz smiled into the dark room. 

“You’re a teenager,” she scolded.

“Trust me.” Fitz slid his hand around to her front, sneaking below the swell of her belly to dip his fingers underneath the low-riding waistband of her pants. “This bears no resemblance to my adolescence. If someone told Teenage Me that someday I’d get to have sex on a regular basis with someone as hot as you – ”

“Oh, shut up and fill me with your giant manhood,” Jemma interrupted with a snicker. 

“Really?”

“No. Are you kidding? I’m exhausted.”

“ _You’re_ exhausted? I was sound asleep a half hour ago. And now you’ve got me like this.”

“You really want to go there?”

Fitz opened and closed his mouth, then thought better of replying. He lay back down and tried not to _oof_ too much as Jemma curled up next to him, propping one leg over his and using his side to support her stomach. Apparently she had finally found a comfortable position to sleep in. She shifted once more, brushing against his persistent, still slightly hopeful erection, and he tried not to whimper.

“Jem?”

“Go to sleep,” she said, before reaching up to pull the pillow out from under his head and move it behind her back.

Fitz sighed.

**

“Mommy, you’re really fat.”

There was a long pause, and then Fitz spoke. “Lenore, it’s rude to say things like that.”

Jemma shook her head and then finished getting dressed, letting the muumuu-like shirt hang over her maternity leggings. She wondered for a second if clothes designers thought women lost their fashion sense as soon as they got knocked up. Or maybe she should stop trusting Koenig to order supplies for the base. Then she looked over at the bed where her husband and daughter were cuddling before the day started. Fitz couldn’t quite look directly at her.

“That would sound so much more paternal if you weren’t trying not to laugh, Leo Fitz.”

He looked at her then, eyes twinkling, biting his lip to prevent his grin from spreading. He shrugged.

She glanced at Lenore, who was pouting and blinking rapidly. “Sorry, Mommy,” she said, her voice shrill with impending tears. 

Jemma quickly hurried (well, tried to waddle as fast as she could) over to the bed and hugged her. “Don’t worry, honey. I know you weren’t trying to be rude.” 

She took the opportunity to reach out and lightly smack Fitz’s side. She ignored his quiet and completely unbelievable _ow_ and then pulled away to brush Lenore’s hair off her forehead. Fitz leaned closer, and whispered something in Lenore’s ear.

“Mommy,” she repeated dutifully. “You’re beautiful and…” She looked up at Fitz, who nodded and mouthed along with her as she finished, “glowin’.”

“Thank you very much. I look this way because the baby’s growing,” she explained. “Soon, it will be big enough to come out and you’ll be a big sister.”

Lenore climbed to her knees, reaching out to put her hands on Jemma’s stomach. Fitz moved quickly to help balance her before she toppled into Jemma. “Will it hurt when it comes out?”

“Yes,” Jemma replied honestly. “Just like it hurt when you came out of me. But it’s all worth it.”

“Hi, Baby,” Lenore said, changing subjects as she leaned closer to Jemma’s stomach and gave it a sloppy kiss. Little kid slobber would definitely improve the look, at least.

“Oh!” Jemma gasped when the baby pressed one foot against her stomach. She reached out, took Lenore’s hand and put it over the spot. “The baby’s saying hi back. Do you feel?”

Lenore nodded, eyes wide, and Jemma lifted her shirt to expose the bump. The baby was really getting active now, Jemma’s skin protruding as it shifted, and even though Fitz had felt the baby move many times already, his eyes got big too. 

“Sure you’re not having an alien?” he asked.

Jemma rolled her eyes, and then tried not to grimace as another limb pushed against her ribcage.

**

“Are you sure you’re OK like this?” Fitz asked breathlessly.

Jemma nodded, lowering herself from her hands to her elbows. She didn’t know if she felt more ridiculously whale-like or strangely aroused, but she was enjoying herself at any rate. “Just…go faster,” she requested, and Fitz increased the pace of his thrusts.

“How long can we keep doing this?” he asked, slowing down again, and Jemma groaned.

“It’s fine. Some people go right up to it. Claim sex might even help induce, but I don’t really – ” She broke off as Fitz’ movements all but stopped then, his hands lifting off her. Jemma shook her head. “I don’t care if I go into labor right now,” she gritted out. “Don’t. Stop.”

Fitz quickly complied with the order, but only seconds later, he added “I just don’t want to…hurt the baby. I mean, can I hit it? Oh God, can it feel what’s happening right now?”

Jemma exhaled loudly, scooting forward until he slipped out of her. She crawled forward on the mattress until she could turn around and sit down. Then she looked at Fitz, whose expression was somewhere between shock and concern. 

“How long has it been since you took a biology class?” 

He made a face as he shook his head. “Dissections.” 

She could have continued to tease him, but her annoyance and arousal were both starting to fade and vulnerability was settling in. She bit her lip and looked away.

“You don’t want to have sex with me anymore, do you?” she asked, cursing the tears that sprung to her eyes. Stupid hormones. “You’re not attracted to me like this.”

“Oh!” He crawled up the bed then, reaching out to take her hands. “Jemma, no. God, no. I’m just worried. This is my first time with all this. I’m a stupid, stupid man.”

“You’re making excuses,” she argued, sniffling. 

“Jemma,” he said firmly, moving his hands to her cheeks and forcing her to look at him. “I’m always attracted to you. If I could get away with it – and could physically manage it, I’d make love to you twenty-four hours a day. If anything, you’re sexier to me now than you’ve ever been.”

Jemma pursed her lips, exhaling through her nose and rolling her eyes.

“Seriously,” he continued. “Is there some kind of evolutionary reasoning for it, because I swear to God…”

“Well, actually,” she said, suddenly becoming animated as she forgot her earlier insecurities, “male responses vary. There is the argument that indicators of – ”

“Oh God, yes,” Fitz mumbled, moving to press her backwards as he kissed her neck, “talk dirty to me. Cite your sources.”

“Fitz,” Jemma stopped him, laughing even as she grimaced. “Not on my back.”

“Right, sorry,” he pulled back, sliding away to give her room as she clumsily turned onto her hands and knees again.

**

“Oh my God,” Jemma sobbed, as Fitz rushed her to a side room. Unbeknownst to her, it had been set up for just this purpose. Operation Stork had never been fully abandoned. “It’s too early. I had a _plan_.”

“Aren’t you glad Jennings is here now?” 

“Fitz! Don’t start!”

**

“I ca - can’t believe how tiny she is,” Fitz murmured, lifting one shaking hand to shift the blanket so he could see the baby more clearly.

“I can’t believe you didn’t pass out,” Jemma added sleepily.

Fitz turned to look at her and shot her a quick smile. “It was close a couple times.”

“No one forced you to actually look down there,” she pointed out.

“Hey,” Fitz replied. “I didn’t want to miss her big, ah, debut.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Jemma intoned, giggling even as she acknowledged the meds might be making her a bit loopy, “Miss Mackenzie Margaret Fitz-Simmons.”

“You know,” Fitz warned, glancing at Jemma before he focused on the baby again, “Marci’s going to point out that if we wanted to go for a- all…”

“Alliteration,” Jemma finished with a smile. “Yes, I know. And Mack’s going to lose it when he learns what her name is.”

“Thanks for agreeing,” Fitz said softly. Jemma didn’t trust her voice to respond so she reached out and squeezed his leg. He looked at her, offering her a small smile and blinking back tears.

Fitz left shortly after that, returning with Lenore. They introduced her to her new sister, answering all her questions and very carefully letting her sit on the bed and “hold” the baby for a few seconds. But the four of them didn’t have long together before there was a tiny tap on the door. It opened and Skye peeked her head in. 

“Ready for visitors?” she almost whispered.

“Just you?” Jemma asked quietly.

Skye made a face that very clearly said it was not only her out in the hall, and Jemma wondered for a moment who _wasn’t_ there. Then she sighed. “A very quick visit. And very quiet.”

Skye grinned and pushed the door open the rest of the way.

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, really this time. The End.


End file.
